Silent Night

Nights have never been quiet here.
Not on this vibrant cowherd street.
Children wake up to raised voices,
Learn the words, and sleep again.
Adults snore. They know the words.
Sometimes, dogs bark in protest.
Or cows belch, bellow, and groan.
Though, never the cats. Okay, twice.
But you don’t hear shrieks anymore.
That generation is too old, too dead.
Bruises aren’t that fashionable now.
It’s easier to divorce and get another.